80. CABIN FEVER (2016)
79. THE AWAKENING (2011)
78. THE PYRAMID (2014)
77. LEFT BEHIND (2014)
76. PARANOIA (2013)
75. SAVING CHRISTMAS (2014)
74. A HAUNTED HOUSE (2013)
73. THE APPARITION (2012)
72. JONAH HEX (2010)
71. SCRE4M (2011)
70. THE DARKEST HOUR (2011)
69. SAW 3D (2010)
68. COP OUT (2010)
67. VACATION (2015)
66. THE DARK TOWER (2017)
65. THE GALLOWS (2015)
64. BRIGHTBURN (2019)
While we're on the topic of nasty supervillain movies, here's another that begins with an interesting premise but succumbs to its lowest-common-denominator instinct. Brightburn ought to have been a knockout of a twist on the comic book legend: a spacecraft lands in a Smallville-like town and births an alien child with superpowers, but instead of a Man of Steel, we get an adolescent maniac who inflicts his pubescent hormonal mood swings on the world. If the movie were more interested in exploring the complexities of that idea and less interested in shoving blood and guts into our faces, it might have been something.
Tori (Elizabeth Banks) and Kyle (David Denman) discover their new son Brandon (Jackson Dunn) in the same way Ma and Pa Kent discover Clark: a spacecraft lands in their backyard with a child inside, and they decide to raise him on their own. Fast forward about 12 years and Brandon is hitting puberty, and coincidentally beginning to discover his powers.
The parallel between the body change of puberty and the discovery of a superpower is far from a novel one; the X-Men and Spider-Man, as well as Superman himself, have trod this ground many times. The new ground that Brightburn tries to go for is to make Brandon's transition as disgusting and toxic as possible. He torments the classmate he has a crush on, as well as her family; he brutally punishes a family friend who tries to rein him in; and finally he takes his aggression out on his parents.
There's a real movie here, but director David Yarovesky and writers Brian and Mark Gunn aren't equipped to explore it. The sub-plot about Brandon's "claiming" of a young classmate, which starts as an innocent crush and escalates into horrific incel revenge, might have been an honest depiction of toxic masculinity, if the movie weren't mostly concerned with portraying graphic torture for gory amusement. Eyes are pierced, heads are smashed, one poor fellow's jaw is ripped clean off for us all to enjoy.
The writers' brother, James Gunn, produced the film, and it feels like the work of someone who has seen his better work and not quite understood how to emulate it. Having come up making Troma films, Gunn of course has an appreciation for the disgusting, as is evidenced by his first mainstream film as director, Slither, which was slimy and icky and lots of fun. But no matter how icky, James Gunn's films have always been grounded in real humanity. Look at his own superhero satire Super, which supposed a vigilante played by Rainn Wilson who attacked petty criminals with a hammer. That movie had lots of skulls being split open, but never let us forget that it was about real people.
Thursday, January 9, 2020
The Top 100 Movies of the '10s, #74: FIRST REFORMED (2017)
75. COSMOPOLIS (2012)
74. FIRST REFORMED (2017)
If the planet survives the existential threat of climate change, First Reformed will be the movie that people look to if they want to capture the muted dread of some combined with the total complacency of others that defines this era.
You would think it was directed by a millennial, or someone who fears having to live with the effects of climate change for more than the last half of their life. But the director is septuagenarian Paul Schrader, who's no stranger to quiet tension. First Reformed concerns a group of people who must continue on with their daily lives, even knowing the end is coming, and what happens when one of them won't take it anymore.
Ernst Toller (Ethan Hawke) is the pastor of a small upstate New York Protestant church that has a claim to fame as a stop on the Underground Railroad, but is mainly eclipsed by a nearby megachurch that--for the most part--pays to keep it open as a historical curio. Mary (Amanda Seyfried), a pregnant parishioner visits him, concerned about her husband Michael (Philip Ettinger), who's reluctant to bring new life into a world that he believes is dying. Michael is an environmentalist who's been radicalized, and she is concerned he will do something drastic.
Toller is the complement to Michael: he is also facing his own mortality--he has symptoms of stomach cancer--but is facing his impending death quietly and passively. Confronted with a parishioner who refuses to take his mortality lying down, Toller's entire worldview is thrown into chaos. The usual answers he gives his parishioners lose their meaning. He discovers something about the megachurch, run by the slick Rev. Jeffers (Cedric Antonio Kyles, a.k.a. the Entertainer, who plays Jeffers as 20% holy man, 40% showman, and 40% hustler) that he'd rather unsee.
The ending is infuriating because there is no closure to Toller's conundrum. It ends with a scream of pain followed by a gesture of love which is insufficient to save the planet but, Schrader hints, it may be all we have in the face of apathy and destruction.
74. FIRST REFORMED (2017)
If the planet survives the existential threat of climate change, First Reformed will be the movie that people look to if they want to capture the muted dread of some combined with the total complacency of others that defines this era.
You would think it was directed by a millennial, or someone who fears having to live with the effects of climate change for more than the last half of their life. But the director is septuagenarian Paul Schrader, who's no stranger to quiet tension. First Reformed concerns a group of people who must continue on with their daily lives, even knowing the end is coming, and what happens when one of them won't take it anymore.
Ernst Toller (Ethan Hawke) is the pastor of a small upstate New York Protestant church that has a claim to fame as a stop on the Underground Railroad, but is mainly eclipsed by a nearby megachurch that--for the most part--pays to keep it open as a historical curio. Mary (Amanda Seyfried), a pregnant parishioner visits him, concerned about her husband Michael (Philip Ettinger), who's reluctant to bring new life into a world that he believes is dying. Michael is an environmentalist who's been radicalized, and she is concerned he will do something drastic.
Toller is the complement to Michael: he is also facing his own mortality--he has symptoms of stomach cancer--but is facing his impending death quietly and passively. Confronted with a parishioner who refuses to take his mortality lying down, Toller's entire worldview is thrown into chaos. The usual answers he gives his parishioners lose their meaning. He discovers something about the megachurch, run by the slick Rev. Jeffers (Cedric Antonio Kyles, a.k.a. the Entertainer, who plays Jeffers as 20% holy man, 40% showman, and 40% hustler) that he'd rather unsee.
The ending is infuriating because there is no closure to Toller's conundrum. It ends with a scream of pain followed by a gesture of love which is insufficient to save the planet but, Schrader hints, it may be all we have in the face of apathy and destruction.
Wednesday, January 1, 2020
The 100 Worst Movies of the '10s, #81: SUICIDE SQUAD (2016)
82. ATLAS SHRUGGED: PART I (2011)
81. SUICIDE SQUAD (2016)
DC movies seem to want us to like them so, so badly. While Kevin Feige and the Marvel crew seem to be able to spin out some decently entertaining narratives out of nowhere--even the lesser ones like Doctor Strange have a lot going for them--Geoff Johns and DC are obviously trying very hard to make something that fits the public's desire. Suicide Squad was reportedly overhauled pretty heavily in post-production because the studio determined that what audiences wanted was an irreverent but overall pleasant antihero story like Guardians of the Galaxy.
Apparently what director David Ayer, the writer of Training Day and director of End of Watch, delivered to them was too abrasive, so they lightened it up, and boy, does it show. Suicide Squad seems to have been made entirely out of chaff. Its story is perfunctory, its characters forgettable, and its centerpiece--the romance between the Joker (Jared Leto) and Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie)--is barely even addressed.
Ayer reportedly directed Leto to method-act during filming, which led to his essentially being a jerk to all the other actors. This is already a pretty silly and unproductive way to get a performance, but it's made all the more pointless when we realize that Leto is barely in the movie and in some cases shares no screen time with his castmates. The only actor who doubles significantly with Leto is Robbie, and even she has to spend most of the movie without him.
The premise is interesting, even if Ayer doesn't do much with it. Government official Amanda Waller (Viola Davis, who I hope took home a lot of money for this role) assembles a Justice League of her own, but one of villains instead of heroes. Why villains? For one thing, it's better to have the worst people working for you, I suppose. For another, since they're already incarcerated, they can be easily controlled. In addition to Harley Quinn, the crew includes Deadshot (Will Smith), Diablo (Jay Hernandez), Killer Croc (Adewale Akinnouye-Agbaje), Slipknot (Adam Beach), Captain Boomerang (Jai Courtney), and Katana (Karen Fukuhara). The team is soon dispatched to stop an evil Enchantress (Cara Delevingne) from bringing about the apocalypse.
The pieces are in place for a fun adventure--and might still be, if James Gunn's inauspiciously-named sequel The Suicide Squad is up to par--but nothing comes together. The plot and characters are overpopulated and no fun. The only actor who registers is Robbie, who delivers a knockout performance as Harley, endowing a difficult character--how do you play someone whose primary characteristic is being controlled by another person?--with agency and power despite the lazy writing.
81. SUICIDE SQUAD (2016)
DC movies seem to want us to like them so, so badly. While Kevin Feige and the Marvel crew seem to be able to spin out some decently entertaining narratives out of nowhere--even the lesser ones like Doctor Strange have a lot going for them--Geoff Johns and DC are obviously trying very hard to make something that fits the public's desire. Suicide Squad was reportedly overhauled pretty heavily in post-production because the studio determined that what audiences wanted was an irreverent but overall pleasant antihero story like Guardians of the Galaxy.
Apparently what director David Ayer, the writer of Training Day and director of End of Watch, delivered to them was too abrasive, so they lightened it up, and boy, does it show. Suicide Squad seems to have been made entirely out of chaff. Its story is perfunctory, its characters forgettable, and its centerpiece--the romance between the Joker (Jared Leto) and Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie)--is barely even addressed.
Ayer reportedly directed Leto to method-act during filming, which led to his essentially being a jerk to all the other actors. This is already a pretty silly and unproductive way to get a performance, but it's made all the more pointless when we realize that Leto is barely in the movie and in some cases shares no screen time with his castmates. The only actor who doubles significantly with Leto is Robbie, and even she has to spend most of the movie without him.
The premise is interesting, even if Ayer doesn't do much with it. Government official Amanda Waller (Viola Davis, who I hope took home a lot of money for this role) assembles a Justice League of her own, but one of villains instead of heroes. Why villains? For one thing, it's better to have the worst people working for you, I suppose. For another, since they're already incarcerated, they can be easily controlled. In addition to Harley Quinn, the crew includes Deadshot (Will Smith), Diablo (Jay Hernandez), Killer Croc (Adewale Akinnouye-Agbaje), Slipknot (Adam Beach), Captain Boomerang (Jai Courtney), and Katana (Karen Fukuhara). The team is soon dispatched to stop an evil Enchantress (Cara Delevingne) from bringing about the apocalypse.
The pieces are in place for a fun adventure--and might still be, if James Gunn's inauspiciously-named sequel The Suicide Squad is up to par--but nothing comes together. The plot and characters are overpopulated and no fun. The only actor who registers is Robbie, who delivers a knockout performance as Harley, endowing a difficult character--how do you play someone whose primary characteristic is being controlled by another person?--with agency and power despite the lazy writing.
The Top 100 Movies of the '10s, #76: SORRY TO BOTHER YOU (2018)
90. JOHN DIES AT THE END (2013)
89. BRIDESMAIDS (2011)
88. THE WITCH (2015)
87. HOW TO SURVIVE A PLAGUE (2012)
86. THE TREE OF LIFE (2011)
85. THE BABADOOK (2014)
84. REAL STEEL (2011)
83. MUDBOUND (2018)
82. STAN & OLLIE (2018)
81. STOKER (2013)
80. ROOM 237 (2012)
79. UPGRADE (2018)
78. MIDSOMMAR (2019)
77. FENCES (2016)
76. SORRY TO BOTHER YOU (2018)
With Sorry to Bother You, Boots Riley cements his place as a unique new voice in cinema. His style combines the community-building atmosphere of Spike Lee with the absurdist imagery of Terry Gilliam at his height, with a satirical allegory that dares to actually satirize. So much of what passes for satire nowadays is afraid to truly bite. Riley does not play nice with any of his characters, especially his hero.
It takes place in a skewed but very recognizable America, in which Cassius Green (Lakeith Stanfield) must eke out a living as a telemarketer, a job at which he's not very good. When a co-worker (Danny Glover) advises him to use his "white voice," his sales immediately skyrocket. Soon he finds himself climbing the corporate ladder, but he can't get very far up before he starts to disregard the people he left below him. His girlfriend Detroit (Tessa Thompson) is an artist and activist who's protesting the very company he works for.
Riley perfectly captures the desperation in working-class America that leads to isolation: Cassius needs a job to make a living, even if it goes against what he stands for. The "white voice" is a particularly ingenious invention in itself: it implies not only speaking in a "white" accent, but carrying a sort of feigned confidence and casualness, as if this white voice has a lot less to worry about than its non-white owner. The brilliant move was to dub Stanfield with a white actor rather than have him affect a voice; the happy lilt in David Cross's voice is appropriately jarring and hilariously unfitting (Patton Oswalt and Steve Buscemi provide co-workers' white voices).
Though its aim is broad, Sorry to Bother You surprisingly remains sharp in attacking its targets. Riley also hits at self-help gurus and capitalist ubermensches in his portrayal of Steve Lift (Armie Hammer), a combination of Tony Robbins and Elon Musk who has found a way to market slavery as empowerment in his "WorryFree" movement. Just what Lift is up to is something I won't reveal here, but let me profess that the movie set me up to expect the most ridiculous outcome, and it still outdid itself.
In the end, though the movie is decidedly a comedy, the message is uncompromisingly bleak, and though Cassius is its everyman hero, he's also the target as the cog in the capitalist wheel. I was a little disappointed in Riley's decision to include a mid-credits scene that adds a somewhat conventional conclusion. The correct final shot is the one directly before the credits begin, and it's a doozy.
89. BRIDESMAIDS (2011)
88. THE WITCH (2015)
87. HOW TO SURVIVE A PLAGUE (2012)
86. THE TREE OF LIFE (2011)
85. THE BABADOOK (2014)
84. REAL STEEL (2011)
83. MUDBOUND (2018)
82. STAN & OLLIE (2018)
81. STOKER (2013)
80. ROOM 237 (2012)
79. UPGRADE (2018)
78. MIDSOMMAR (2019)
77. FENCES (2016)
76. SORRY TO BOTHER YOU (2018)
With Sorry to Bother You, Boots Riley cements his place as a unique new voice in cinema. His style combines the community-building atmosphere of Spike Lee with the absurdist imagery of Terry Gilliam at his height, with a satirical allegory that dares to actually satirize. So much of what passes for satire nowadays is afraid to truly bite. Riley does not play nice with any of his characters, especially his hero.
It takes place in a skewed but very recognizable America, in which Cassius Green (Lakeith Stanfield) must eke out a living as a telemarketer, a job at which he's not very good. When a co-worker (Danny Glover) advises him to use his "white voice," his sales immediately skyrocket. Soon he finds himself climbing the corporate ladder, but he can't get very far up before he starts to disregard the people he left below him. His girlfriend Detroit (Tessa Thompson) is an artist and activist who's protesting the very company he works for.
Riley perfectly captures the desperation in working-class America that leads to isolation: Cassius needs a job to make a living, even if it goes against what he stands for. The "white voice" is a particularly ingenious invention in itself: it implies not only speaking in a "white" accent, but carrying a sort of feigned confidence and casualness, as if this white voice has a lot less to worry about than its non-white owner. The brilliant move was to dub Stanfield with a white actor rather than have him affect a voice; the happy lilt in David Cross's voice is appropriately jarring and hilariously unfitting (Patton Oswalt and Steve Buscemi provide co-workers' white voices).
Though its aim is broad, Sorry to Bother You surprisingly remains sharp in attacking its targets. Riley also hits at self-help gurus and capitalist ubermensches in his portrayal of Steve Lift (Armie Hammer), a combination of Tony Robbins and Elon Musk who has found a way to market slavery as empowerment in his "WorryFree" movement. Just what Lift is up to is something I won't reveal here, but let me profess that the movie set me up to expect the most ridiculous outcome, and it still outdid itself.
In the end, though the movie is decidedly a comedy, the message is uncompromisingly bleak, and though Cassius is its everyman hero, he's also the target as the cog in the capitalist wheel. I was a little disappointed in Riley's decision to include a mid-credits scene that adds a somewhat conventional conclusion. The correct final shot is the one directly before the credits begin, and it's a doozy.
The 100 Worst Movies of the '10s, #83: SWISS ARMY MAN (2016)
95. THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN (2016)
94. TRUTH OR DARE? (2018)
93. MORTDECAI (2015)
92. MAGIC IN THE MOONLIGHT (2014)
91. ANNABELLE (2014)
90. LIVE BY NIGHT (2017)
89. SAFE HAVEN (2013)
88. PAUL BLART: MALL COP 2 (2015)
87. DARK CRIMES (2016)
86. THE HUNGER GAMES (2012)
85. ONLY GOD FORGIVES (2013)
84. GROWN UPS 2 (2013)
83. SWISS ARMY MAN (2016)
Yes, I know, a lot of people are very fond of this movie. I'm not.
I get how the very funny premise buys it a little bit of understanding. A man named Hank (Paul Dano), stranded on a desert island, is about to kill himself. Then at the last second, he sees someone floating to shore. Hank figures this to be the sign that he should try to survive, even though the man on shore (Daniel Radcliffe) is very much dead.
I wish the movie had stuck with its first conceit in the use of Radcliffe as the dead body, named "Manny" by his living companion. Hank finds all sorts of uses for the titular Swiss Army Man: he uses him to crack open coconuts, he stores fresh water in his stomach, he uses his farts to propel the two of them like a jetski through water.
But then directors Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert abandon the most interesting aspect of their movie and focus on the triter relationship between Hank and his imaginary friend. I suppose there's a place for such a friendship, a sort of parody of Tom Hanks's "Wilson!" buddy in Cast Away, but the directors seem dead set on taking a novel, silly idea to hackneyed, boring places.
Give credit to Radcliffe for committing to this very strange role, and to Dano for earnestly playing his very not-strange one. When the movie finally reveals its game in the last act, it feels less like pulling the rug out from under itself than it does throwing a wet blanket over itself. The significance of Mary Elizabeth Winstead's character (who turns up in flashbacks throughout) is a groaner, and casts a shadow over the Hank character, making him seem not only pathetic but predatory. Matt Zoller Seitz, writing for rogerebert.com, quipped that "One thing you definitely can't say about Swiss Army Man is 'Oh, not that again.'" I'll say it: not another movie where a dangerous lunatic's fantasies are portrayed as cute and twee. Not that again.
94. TRUTH OR DARE? (2018)
93. MORTDECAI (2015)
92. MAGIC IN THE MOONLIGHT (2014)
91. ANNABELLE (2014)
90. LIVE BY NIGHT (2017)
89. SAFE HAVEN (2013)
88. PAUL BLART: MALL COP 2 (2015)
87. DARK CRIMES (2016)
86. THE HUNGER GAMES (2012)
85. ONLY GOD FORGIVES (2013)
84. GROWN UPS 2 (2013)
83. SWISS ARMY MAN (2016)
Yes, I know, a lot of people are very fond of this movie. I'm not.
I get how the very funny premise buys it a little bit of understanding. A man named Hank (Paul Dano), stranded on a desert island, is about to kill himself. Then at the last second, he sees someone floating to shore. Hank figures this to be the sign that he should try to survive, even though the man on shore (Daniel Radcliffe) is very much dead.
I wish the movie had stuck with its first conceit in the use of Radcliffe as the dead body, named "Manny" by his living companion. Hank finds all sorts of uses for the titular Swiss Army Man: he uses him to crack open coconuts, he stores fresh water in his stomach, he uses his farts to propel the two of them like a jetski through water.
But then directors Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert abandon the most interesting aspect of their movie and focus on the triter relationship between Hank and his imaginary friend. I suppose there's a place for such a friendship, a sort of parody of Tom Hanks's "Wilson!" buddy in Cast Away, but the directors seem dead set on taking a novel, silly idea to hackneyed, boring places.
Give credit to Radcliffe for committing to this very strange role, and to Dano for earnestly playing his very not-strange one. When the movie finally reveals its game in the last act, it feels less like pulling the rug out from under itself than it does throwing a wet blanket over itself. The significance of Mary Elizabeth Winstead's character (who turns up in flashbacks throughout) is a groaner, and casts a shadow over the Hank character, making him seem not only pathetic but predatory. Matt Zoller Seitz, writing for rogerebert.com, quipped that "One thing you definitely can't say about Swiss Army Man is 'Oh, not that again.'" I'll say it: not another movie where a dangerous lunatic's fantasies are portrayed as cute and twee. Not that again.
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
The Top 100 Movies of the '10s, #91: EXTREMELY WICKED, SHOCKINGLY EVIL, AND VILE (2019)
98. 1922 (2017)
97. LOCKE (2014)
96. BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE (2018)
95. HELL OR HIGH WATER (2016)
94. IT COMES AT NIGHT (2017)
93. A GIRL WALKS HOME ALONE AT NIGHT (2014)
92. THE INVITATION (2015)
91. EXTREMELY WICKED, SHOCKINGLY EVIL, AND VILE (2019)
What Zac Efron gets right is the hollowness. I have a feeling it's easy to method-act cunning, driven, angry, forlorn, or enthusiastic characters, but hollow is hard. The sense that there's nothing behind the eyes but craftiness. Deception. Planning the next move. No emotions except strategic ones. Hollowness.
Efron and director Joe Berlinger wisely avoid humanizing Ted Bundy, or rationalizing his motives, or explaining his background. It doesn't matter why he is. He just is.
Bundy confessed to murdering 30 people between 1974 and 1978. We don't see any of those murders on screen; we only see the prelude to one of them, and it's a visualization of one of Bundy's confessions. Truth be told, there's very little violence in this film at all, but it feels more violent than it is. That's because the violence is in Bundy's manipulation of the people around him, in his charm and charisma that enamor him to women, in his bland white Republican normalcy that enables him to fade into the background of suburban America.
Except for some glimpses, we see Bundy mostly through the eyes of his girlfriend Liz (Lily Collins), a single mother who is charmed by him one night at a bar and is soon inviting him into her life. Of course, Ted would never harm her: not because he feels an emotional connection to her at all, but because he would be easily caught. Once suspicion falls upon him for a murder in far-away Utah, Liz wants to defend him but soon discovers she cannot.
It doesn't end there. Soon Bundy flees to Florida, where he is suspected in several more gruesome murders. A boisterous televised trial follows, with Ted as its charming antihero. He commands the courtroom: riffing, frivolously objecting, firing his court-appointed attorney, lambasting the judge and prosecution. Efron deftly displays Bundy's hypermasculine confidence, which doubles as his weakness: his assumption that--of course--everyone will believe his plea of innocence, because he's smart enough to convince them. Even the judge (played with stoic authority by John Malkovich) admits to being impressed with Bundy's competence in representing himself. And because Berlinger puts us in the position of the charmed rather than the charmer, we're a little surprised when the guilty verdict comes.
Berlinger, a documentarian who--along with his late partner Bruce Sinofsky--delivered some of the best true-crime work that's ever been made, like Brother's Keeper and the Paradise Lost series, has dealt quite a bit with the notion of prejudice trumping evidence. The borderline-aboriginal family in Brother's Keeper finds it difficult to get a fair shake in court, as do the supposed Satan-worshiping West Memphis Three in Paradise Lost, even when the evidence seems to be in their favor. His much-maligned but underrated Blair Witch 2 spun out from the mockumentary format of the original to explore what happens when the footage doesn't seem to fit the fact.
Here Berlinger shows in disturbing detail how much of the public, including many women, took Bundy's side despite the evidence, possibly because he was handsome, affable, all the things that sociopaths learn to be in order to fool those around them. Even on death row, we see Bundy smiling, joking, still manipulating, still planning the next step. The evidence eventually won out in this case, but Berlinger seems to be saying that even in a seemingly clear-cut case such as Bundy's, it's an uphill slope.
97. LOCKE (2014)
96. BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE (2018)
95. HELL OR HIGH WATER (2016)
94. IT COMES AT NIGHT (2017)
93. A GIRL WALKS HOME ALONE AT NIGHT (2014)
92. THE INVITATION (2015)
91. EXTREMELY WICKED, SHOCKINGLY EVIL, AND VILE (2019)
What Zac Efron gets right is the hollowness. I have a feeling it's easy to method-act cunning, driven, angry, forlorn, or enthusiastic characters, but hollow is hard. The sense that there's nothing behind the eyes but craftiness. Deception. Planning the next move. No emotions except strategic ones. Hollowness.
Efron and director Joe Berlinger wisely avoid humanizing Ted Bundy, or rationalizing his motives, or explaining his background. It doesn't matter why he is. He just is.
Bundy confessed to murdering 30 people between 1974 and 1978. We don't see any of those murders on screen; we only see the prelude to one of them, and it's a visualization of one of Bundy's confessions. Truth be told, there's very little violence in this film at all, but it feels more violent than it is. That's because the violence is in Bundy's manipulation of the people around him, in his charm and charisma that enamor him to women, in his bland white Republican normalcy that enables him to fade into the background of suburban America.
Except for some glimpses, we see Bundy mostly through the eyes of his girlfriend Liz (Lily Collins), a single mother who is charmed by him one night at a bar and is soon inviting him into her life. Of course, Ted would never harm her: not because he feels an emotional connection to her at all, but because he would be easily caught. Once suspicion falls upon him for a murder in far-away Utah, Liz wants to defend him but soon discovers she cannot.
It doesn't end there. Soon Bundy flees to Florida, where he is suspected in several more gruesome murders. A boisterous televised trial follows, with Ted as its charming antihero. He commands the courtroom: riffing, frivolously objecting, firing his court-appointed attorney, lambasting the judge and prosecution. Efron deftly displays Bundy's hypermasculine confidence, which doubles as his weakness: his assumption that--of course--everyone will believe his plea of innocence, because he's smart enough to convince them. Even the judge (played with stoic authority by John Malkovich) admits to being impressed with Bundy's competence in representing himself. And because Berlinger puts us in the position of the charmed rather than the charmer, we're a little surprised when the guilty verdict comes.
Berlinger, a documentarian who--along with his late partner Bruce Sinofsky--delivered some of the best true-crime work that's ever been made, like Brother's Keeper and the Paradise Lost series, has dealt quite a bit with the notion of prejudice trumping evidence. The borderline-aboriginal family in Brother's Keeper finds it difficult to get a fair shake in court, as do the supposed Satan-worshiping West Memphis Three in Paradise Lost, even when the evidence seems to be in their favor. His much-maligned but underrated Blair Witch 2 spun out from the mockumentary format of the original to explore what happens when the footage doesn't seem to fit the fact.
Here Berlinger shows in disturbing detail how much of the public, including many women, took Bundy's side despite the evidence, possibly because he was handsome, affable, all the things that sociopaths learn to be in order to fool those around them. Even on death row, we see Bundy smiling, joking, still manipulating, still planning the next step. The evidence eventually won out in this case, but Berlinger seems to be saying that even in a seemingly clear-cut case such as Bundy's, it's an uphill slope.
Sunday, December 29, 2019
The 100 Worst Movies of the '10s, #96: RINGS (2017)
100. THE GIRL IN THE SPIDER'S WEB (2018)
99. 31 (2016)
98. THE ROOMMATE (2011)
97. WAR ON EVERYONE (2016)
96. RINGS (2017)
A lot of people complain about cancel culture. I'm more irritated with resurrection culture.
Somewhere along the line, movie studios got the idea that just because a series has lain dormant for a few years, a reboot or sequel or remake is somehow warranted. Sometimes, as with the long-awaited revival of The X-Files, it's worthwhile. Other times, as with the ill-fated fifth entry in the Pirates of the Caribbean saga, it's not. Rings, the revival of the Samara saga of the American version of The Ring (2002), is boring and ineffectual in addition to being unnecessary.
Give credit to director F. Javier Gutierrez (I know, I know--what did Javier Gutierrez ever do to me) for injecting as much atmosphere as he can. The credited writers are no flunkies, either: Akiva Goldsman has a ton of heavy hits to his name, and made a little throwaway thriller a few years ago called Stephanie that was a lot of fun; Jacob Aaron Estes has made some decent indie films, including the haunting Mean Creek; David Loucka wrote a moderate flop called Dream House that nonetheless introduced future spouses Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz, and a year later wrote a turd called The House at the End of the Street that was notable for headlining a budding star named Jennifer Lawrence--but more on that one later in the countdown.
Rings lands upon some interesting premises in its first half-hour, and then jettisons them immediately in favor of another pseudo-whodunit in which the main character tries to piece together the clues. Why? We know from six or seven previous movies between the U.S. and Japan that it doesn't matter and she gets you in the end.
The more successful movies in the series--namely the first Japanese Ringu and the American sequel The Ring Two--worked because they focused more on experience and less on plot. The premise is simple--that there's a VHS tape that kills anyone who watches it--but most of the movies in the series can't find a way to let the primal horror speak for itself. What's scary is not the quest to find out more about the origins of the tape, but the nagging notion that even a silly threat like "You will die in seven days" might be true. Kind of like how the zombies in Night of the Living Dead aren't particularly scary on their own, but the inevitability of a horde of zombies coming toward you slowly but surely chills you to the bone.
The first act gave me hope of some invention in the series. A copy of the deadly tape ends up in the hands of Gabriel (Johnny Galecki, really stretching to play a sketchy college professor), who of course spins it into an academic project and shows it to his students. This could have been an interesting premise: how much of Gabriel's research is based in legitimate curiosity, and how much is smug academic self-congratulation? And how much of it comes from his simply trying to save his own life?
But never mind that. Most of the movie follows Julia (Matilda Lutz), the girlfriend of one of Gabriel's students who has disappeared. She's living at home to take care of her sick mom, who I suppose gets conveniently better once Julia needs to trek off to the corners of the forest to investigate her boyfriend's disappearance. From here on out it's the same old lazy mystery story, following pointless strand after strand, stopping for a bit at Vincent D'Onofrio's house for some reason, and settling into a thudding non-ending.
Though Rings is really too insignificant to make a Bottom 100 list, I'm using it as my stand-in for every franchise that has been needlessly retreaded over the past 10 years. There might have been a way to make a Ring movie seem warranted in 2017, but little effort was made here.
99. 31 (2016)
98. THE ROOMMATE (2011)
97. WAR ON EVERYONE (2016)
96. RINGS (2017)
A lot of people complain about cancel culture. I'm more irritated with resurrection culture.
Somewhere along the line, movie studios got the idea that just because a series has lain dormant for a few years, a reboot or sequel or remake is somehow warranted. Sometimes, as with the long-awaited revival of The X-Files, it's worthwhile. Other times, as with the ill-fated fifth entry in the Pirates of the Caribbean saga, it's not. Rings, the revival of the Samara saga of the American version of The Ring (2002), is boring and ineffectual in addition to being unnecessary.
Give credit to director F. Javier Gutierrez (I know, I know--what did Javier Gutierrez ever do to me) for injecting as much atmosphere as he can. The credited writers are no flunkies, either: Akiva Goldsman has a ton of heavy hits to his name, and made a little throwaway thriller a few years ago called Stephanie that was a lot of fun; Jacob Aaron Estes has made some decent indie films, including the haunting Mean Creek; David Loucka wrote a moderate flop called Dream House that nonetheless introduced future spouses Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz, and a year later wrote a turd called The House at the End of the Street that was notable for headlining a budding star named Jennifer Lawrence--but more on that one later in the countdown.
Rings lands upon some interesting premises in its first half-hour, and then jettisons them immediately in favor of another pseudo-whodunit in which the main character tries to piece together the clues. Why? We know from six or seven previous movies between the U.S. and Japan that it doesn't matter and she gets you in the end.
The more successful movies in the series--namely the first Japanese Ringu and the American sequel The Ring Two--worked because they focused more on experience and less on plot. The premise is simple--that there's a VHS tape that kills anyone who watches it--but most of the movies in the series can't find a way to let the primal horror speak for itself. What's scary is not the quest to find out more about the origins of the tape, but the nagging notion that even a silly threat like "You will die in seven days" might be true. Kind of like how the zombies in Night of the Living Dead aren't particularly scary on their own, but the inevitability of a horde of zombies coming toward you slowly but surely chills you to the bone.
The first act gave me hope of some invention in the series. A copy of the deadly tape ends up in the hands of Gabriel (Johnny Galecki, really stretching to play a sketchy college professor), who of course spins it into an academic project and shows it to his students. This could have been an interesting premise: how much of Gabriel's research is based in legitimate curiosity, and how much is smug academic self-congratulation? And how much of it comes from his simply trying to save his own life?
But never mind that. Most of the movie follows Julia (Matilda Lutz), the girlfriend of one of Gabriel's students who has disappeared. She's living at home to take care of her sick mom, who I suppose gets conveniently better once Julia needs to trek off to the corners of the forest to investigate her boyfriend's disappearance. From here on out it's the same old lazy mystery story, following pointless strand after strand, stopping for a bit at Vincent D'Onofrio's house for some reason, and settling into a thudding non-ending.
Though Rings is really too insignificant to make a Bottom 100 list, I'm using it as my stand-in for every franchise that has been needlessly retreaded over the past 10 years. There might have been a way to make a Ring movie seem warranted in 2017, but little effort was made here.
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